


Taking Care of Business

by judasetcetera



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Reader-Insert, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judasetcetera/pseuds/judasetcetera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have been working at Saburo Enterprises for three years. Until today, you weren't even sure if the CEO of the company-- Nobunaga Oda-- even existed. You're called to his office, with no reason given, and you pray you're not in trouble...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care of Business

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, just a quick little something before we begin. This is my first time writing any sort of smut on my own, and the first time I've actually sat down and written anything in a very, very long time. To make this more interactive with you, the reader, I suggest getting a word replacer app and substituting [name] as your name, and let your imagination run wild. Thank you, and have a wonderful day.

You noticed before that Mr. Oda never spoke to anyone directly. Well, at least not within his headquarters, the place of which you worked. He always sent a courier of sorts, be it a fellow secretary, HR, or even the janitor. You always thought that behavior of his was very peculiar-- he's the CEO of the company, after all, so why keep himself a secret? Is he shy? Is he disfigured?

 

Or is there something else you're not taking into consideration? You had heard the gossip in the office before. How that there was blood spattered on the walls of his office, but not even so much as a hair of the victim. How he could be a murderer... maybe even a cannibal. Best not to think of it, especially when you're about to knock on his door-- a heavy mahogany one, with a heavy-looking brass knob. You rap your fist against the door, keeping your folder close to your chest. You're surprised when you're met with silence. Mr. Oda had asked you to be here at 11:30 AM sharp, right? You check your watch-- 11:28:52 AM. Fashionably early, but then, you hadn't considered how quickly you would arrive at his office. You knock again, before cracking open the door open.

 

The room is, surprisingly, dimly lit. You were anticipating a huge window, possibly with an overlook of the city-- that's what most CEOs have, right? The only light-sources seem to stem from the desk lamp, and the lights illuminating a very wicked looking suit of armor, all sharp angles and lined with crimson.

 

You don't even notice him sitting at his desk at first, resting his cheek against his hand. When you do, you feel your heart sink-- it's almost like looking at a death's-head, from a distance, and you can feel his eyes, so like a predator's, looking over you-- no, not over you, through you.

 

“You wished to see me, sir?” You try to sound confident, even just fairly neutral, but it fails-- that piercing gaze has you humbled, sheepish.

 

“Were you raised by barbarians?” he says with a slight snarl, his voice husky, dark. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

 

You obey, quietly closing the door behind you. “I, uhm... I finished that report, if that's what this is about,” you stammer, trying to keep eye-contact with him. “You know, the one due by the 8th?”

 

“I didn't call you in here for the report.” He raises his head from his hand. The way the light from the lamp catches in his eyes... it makes it look like his eyes are a deep crimson-- the color of dried blood. “Come closer, [name]. Let me get a better look at you...”

 

“...o-of course, sir.” The way his voice dropped, cooled, sends a shiver down your spine. You walk towards the desk, stopping just in front of it. You take a very quick look at the name plaque on the CEO's desk:

 

_Nobunaga Oda, CEO_

 

You suddenly feel his hand cupping your chin, forcibly tilting your head up to look at him. Up close, you think, he's not a bad-looking man. From the square contour of his face, to the well-kept mustache, even to his deep-set eyes-- which _are,_ in fact, the deep red that you thought you had imagined-- you find that he is, in fact, quite handsome. Terrifying, in some strange way that you can't put your finger on... but handsome, regardless. The space between you two closes, his lips pressed against yours before you even have time to register what is going on. You let out a surprised, muffled noise, the forceful nature of the kiss catching you off-guard. Nobunaga retracts his face from yours, but not before leaving behind a little parting gift-- he nips lightly at your lower lip, enough to inflict a rather minor amount of pain. A small groan bubbles up from your throat, though if it is from pain or pleasure, you cannot be sure.

 

“Now,” he purrs, “as to why I called you here... I have some calls to make, and I tend to get a little... _heated_ during them.”

 

Now, everything is clicking together. You have some idea as to what he wants... “O-okay? And where do I come in?” You choose to play dumb, and play along-- to entertain his desires.

 

“What I want from you, [name], is to keep me calm, so to speak. Keep me... distracted.” You furrow your brow in confusion. “I don't need to destroy yet another phone this week.”

 

“How am I--”

 

You feel yourself being dragged behind the desk, your thoughts interrupted, and pushed to your knees. Soon you find yourself under the desk, looking up at a rather impressive bulge as Nobunaga takes his seat once more, picking up the phone and flipping through the rather new-looking Rolodex. You carefully undo his trousers, electing not to think of the consequences of ruining his suit. As the first number is inputted into the phone, you manage to get his shaft out of his clothing, taking in its surprisingly clean, yet musky, scent before delicately licking along it's length. You try to simply focus on the task at hand, to phase out his half of the conversations he holds, as you service him, but you catch a few things-- “aggressive expansion” being one of them, “monopoly” being another. You can, amazingly, take most of his length into your mouth without issue, though you've accidentally gagged yourself on it a few times.

 

Midway through the fourth or fifth phone call, you understand why he brought you here. Indeed, you can hear him grow increasingly furious, and you can _feel_ it-- the way his body quakes with anger, the way his temperature seems to rise... and yet, he sounds completely calm, level-headed. Nobunaga suddenly grabs a handful of your hair, effectively forcing you to deepthroat him-- you panic when you find that you can't breathe for that brief instant, before he pulls your head back, allowing you to get a lungful of air before forcing you back down, over and over, even as he speaks over the phone. You begin to panic as you feel more and more light-headed, less and less aware of everything. After a curt “good-bye,” the phone is placed onto the cradle, and now both of his hands are working your face, each forced thrust now that much harder. A muffled grunt and a lull in his thrusting is the only indication you get of his climax, hot seed pumped down your tight throat. You try your best to swallow it all as it comes, hoping you won't choke on it. A final dab of semen streaks your tongue as Nobunaga pulls out of your mouth, a quiet sigh escaping his mouth. He moves his chair back, allowing you to get out from under the desk. You swear as you do so, you hear your knees pop, and you go to make your leave.

 

His hand grabs your wrist in a vice-grip. You look back at him, his eyes catching yours, seeing your confusion.

 

“S-sir...” you squeak out. “Y-you only said--”

 

“I didn't say you could leave, [name].” Nobunaga keeps his gaze on you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I need one last thing from you.”

 

He tugs you back towards him, rather forcefully-- to the point where you fear your shoulder may be dislocated in the process, but fortunately for you, it isn't. You let out a yelp when he shoves you onto the desk, back facing him. Your heart races as he yanks down your pants, your arousal apparent to him as he works your entrance with rough thrusts from his fingers. You try hard not to moan, but it feels so good to be on the receiving end of something like this. You swear you hear your boss utter some snide remark about how eager you are for him, but you don't much care at the moment.

 

The rough entry, however, _does_ make you care. It's enough to make your whole body shake, a moan escaping your lips as your tight hole tries to acclimate to his length. Nobunaga doesn't give you much time to do so and dives right into it, taking you-- _claiming_ you-- with hard, fast thrusts that would drive anyone, man or woman, insane. You can't help your moans as they come, but he silences your cries by wrapping a hand around your throat, choking you-- properly, this time.

 

“I'd prefer if you remained quiet,” Nobunaga growls, grinding into you. You let out a strangled noise in return. “These walls aren't exactly _soundproof,_ you know.”

 

Even as he fucks you, chokes you, small noises manage to escape from your constricted throat, and you can feel your climax edging closer and closer as your boss fucks you rougher and rougher-- to the point where you fear that the desk is going to split in two. You've never felt anything like this before-- never have you been in such a state of bliss. Your pleasure heightens when you feel his sharp teeth dig into your shoulder, like some feral beast readying its mate for copulation. You cry out as best you can, your entrance clamping down around Nobunaga's shaft as you reach climax, edging him to do so as well. His semen spills into you in thick globs, deep inside you, as he releases your neck... but not your shoulder. You let out a feeble cough, catching your breath, before your boss finally pulls out and removes his fangs from your shoulder. Even as you're ready to pass out on his desk, you can feel his hand sifting through your hair, tidying it.

 

“You'd best get back to work, [name.] Your shift isn't even half-over yet.” Nobunaga straightens you out, making sure you look as though nothing happened between you two. “I'll send you a message if I need you again.” You go to leave, your legs shaking, and you cast him one final glance. He's seated again, a satisfied yet sly look on his face as you exit his office.

 

Once you're outside, you hear a crash from within and a soft expletive.

 

Looks like the desk split in two, after all.

 


End file.
